All posts by qubit19

Murphy’s Law

I’m acquiring pieces of a relationship. One by one. Slowly, over the years, the separate aspects make up the whole. Never all at once. And getting hold of that one piece is like climbing a vertical rock wall. You just jump up and reach out for whatever elated feeling you are hoping to get. You look for outstanding protrusions, something you can hold on to. Often, you fall flat on your face, and people think…

Doesn’t matter what people think. One person matters only. It’s just that the conglomeration of my wishes into just one person seems to be out of reach, inhabiting a far-flung galaxy, too far for me to find. Perhaps the trick is to stop searching, stop climbing, stop waiting. Murphy’s Law. Perhaps.  

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Hello tomorrow!

If you’re looking for the Emirates commercial featuring Jennifer Aniston, or their instagram (with pics of the aforementioned actress), please visit their website at http://www.emirates.com 🙂

If you’d like to test your patience a while longer, then please stay with me.

I’m stealing the Emirates slogan in an attempt to resuscitate this blog, which has stopped meandering, lost all visual flair (not quite sure if it had any to begin with), dropped its ”L” word, and turned into a bog. A dark, creepy bog of old, recycled material written, well, a decade ago.

So, time to change and shake things up a bit. I’ve shaken up my own life recently, by quitting my job, packing up within two days, and moving to China. To a ”small” city halfway between Beijing and Hong Kong (i.e. in the middle of the Middle Kingdom, and no, it’s not Shanghai). I’ve been invited to teach English. In a public middle school. With 7,000 students, 1,690 of which I have the pleasure of convincing that English is fun (whilst they are catching up with their 200 pages of homework from other subjects by hiding maths and history books under the desk….).

It’s been a roller coaster of a month! And I love roller coasters 😉 However, teaching 11-13 year old kids the colours of the rainbow and the names of family members made me realise that, for the sake of my own English skills (and possibly sanity), I need to go back to writing. Hence the revamp of the bog. Sorry, blog.

You can stick around for the ride and see how this virtual space develops, or you can click ”unfollow” and be on your way to having a real coffee with a real friend (the former of which I am dearly missing).

Zai jian, or not, have a lovely Sunday.

NB: Real coffee = espresso. Short & strong. No watery stuff like filter coffee or 2in1, 3in1 sachet stuff. If an Italian reads this – lo capirà.

Waves

It is flabbergasting how close one can be to their destiny and not notice it at all… or not even remember that one person, that one being, who captures your heart two years later with such a sudden grip, it feels like being enveloped in an ocean wave in slow motion… a calming, soothing, yet very strong embrace. A wave against which you have no chance to fight back.  You just succumb. You drown. In the deep, dark eyes, in the soft susurrations of the velvet voice, in the details of the everyday affections. You let yourself drown and it’s the sweetest emotion.

Two years since the event you both attended, and only now you realise – there’s the two of you, in the same photo, just one person apart. There’s the two of you at the same reception, you trying to talk to someone else, him trying to talk to you, both unsuccessful. And then <<smack>>! One teeny weenie sentence opens the door, two years later, and the truth comes pouring out, unhindered by the fear of rejection, unhindered by the feeling of doing something that’s ‘’out of place’’.

Now…now we have nothing to lose. Two years later means two years the wiser (hopefully). It means we’ve already lost, and displaced, and regretted so much, that truly – there is nothing to lose. And…when you have nothing to lose…? Well, then you are stripped to the core of your very being, then you do what you really feel you need, you want, to do without the background noise like ‘’what will my friends say’’,  or ‘’no, I give up, I will just make a fool out of myself’’, and ‘’next time, there will be a next time, I will be more courageous, I will say something then’’.

Wrong.

If you’ve got something to say, say it now. Do it now, if at all possible. One can always reason that there is a ‘’a right time and a right place for everything’’, but what have you got to lose if you lend a helping hand yourself, instead of waiting for the universe to do all the work? 😉

Let go!

Let go
Let go

Subtitle: Hammocks and banana peels

The universe can be as comforting as a hammock strung between two palm trees, or as dangerous as a banana peel on an icy side-walk.

If you choose the banana peel view, the chances are, you’ll find yourself staring at the ground all the time, searching for problems and obstacles. And you sure will find them. You might become so focused on the search, you’ll surpass Sherlock himself in deductive prowess! Thus, even the innocent banana peel hidden in the dark corner, meant for someone else to slip on, will become your worry.

Hammocks are a different matter. Just imagine: you prepare your favorite drink, sink into the colorful piece of cloth hanging above the ground, and what do you see? The sky. The trees. Perhaps other people, or new opportunities.  Most importantly, you relax and feel at ease, enveloped in a safety net of sorts. You can continue thinking about your job, relationships, kids, exams or loans… but without anxiety, because you feel that hammock supporting your back.

The hard part is learning to let go, and trusting that the hammock will, indeed, support you when you fall into it.  Just as hard as peeling your eyes away from the streets and banana peels. It’s worth it, though.

It doesn’t mean that spending the rest of your life in a hammock will solve all your problems 🙂 Or that you don’t ever need to strive or fight hard for something. Absolutely not. It just means that you can focus on doing, being and feeling your best, without the fear of failure. Without the anticipation of hurdles, and failures and banana peels. Instead, you will attract the positive things this universe has to offer and see failure as a lesson, an chance to do better.

You already know what fear feels like. Fear is healthy when it’s intuitive, involuntary. When it’s artificial, amplified by our belief in banana peels, it can be discouraging.

Try letting go. Don’t have to buy a hammock. Imagine it. Go outside, look up at the sky for a couple of minutes every day. Oh, what was that, you say it’s raining? So? We may be kind and sweet, but we are not made of sugar! Look up, let go, and the universe will be there for you 🙂

Insomnia

A myriad of words are buzzing around my head, prickling my mind, imploring it to take them in, feed them into a poem, a story, a meaningful phrase. Fantastic images form, ideas flash, but whenever I try to gather them, shape them, tame them into an obedient piece of written work they just…vanish, disappear into thin air.

These words, so intangible, yet so sharp, sweet, cold…

What right do they have to hover randomly around me at 3am? What insolence to force me out of bed, under the pretext that they’ll fall into an orderly format as soon as I put my pen to paper, and then to just scatter off!

Maybe the light scared them off. Maybe words are like mushrooms, they grow in the dark, they lurk in our minds, crouch on the tip of our tongues ready to spring out, to spill over from head, through pen, to paper.

Either way, THEY (and the 6 cups of coffee I’ve had today) are keeping me awake at 3am. And instead of writing a meaningful narrative, here I am, watching the moon flicker behind the clouds and listening to a heated negotiation between two clans of stray dogs about which clan gets to bite the next drunk person who comes along.
No, no, no… sorry, Google translate was wrong when interpreting dogspeak, they actually mentioned something about their weekly attack on the meat shop. There, you can’t say you were lost in translation, but only that you’ve read a strange cocktail of words whose author was pretentious enough to think it was worth putting it up on a virtual wall for all to see.

Cookie crumbs & Coffee trails no.1

I have tried. Tried in every possible way to stop, to forget. Oh, you wouldn’t believe to what lengths I have gone to peel my eyes off the perfect little chocolate muffin, or to keep my feet from rushing towards the foamy macchiato!

But to no avail. Coffee and cookies win the battle. Always. The thing is, in my case, they have to come at the right time, and the right setting, to be fully enjoyed. Preferably with the right people, too.

Let me open this aromatic trail with the café that saved my life – Terra coffee house in Macau.

It’s a tiny establishment on the corner of a steep street, and quite inconspicuous at first. It’s only when you come a little closer and look through the glass wall that you see that it’s a cosy café, with the owner/barista behind the bar, and the perfect jazz tunes coming out to smooth the most crumpled of moods.

The day I went in I was on edge, with a strange case of vertigo. I can feel it again as I’m writing this: pavement caving in, head spinning as if impersonating a frisbee, stomach turning… In that state, the only calming thought was: espresso & sit down. That’s when perfection started unfolding! The owner smiled a silent but sincere greeting, prepared the perfect macchiato, poured refreshing water from unique glass bottles and offered the heavenly handmade chocolate cookies. The music played on, I ordered another macchiato, the world stopped blurring and the frisbee-head wobbled back to normal.

When in Macau, visit this refuge from large crowds, flickering casinos and noisy streets.

Largo do Santo Agostinho 1

Terra Coffee

 

Breakthru

Enter. Labyrinth. Break through.
So many paths, endless coils
Derranged, twisted…
Nonexistent.
I lost myself in you
In your maze of thoughts.

How do you think?
WHAT do you think?
Is it really you inside?
This labyrinth is your own —

No? No, no, its been engraved into
You, slowly, painfully
Day by day, word by word,
Effacing your childhood gradually.

Now the scars itch.
With every scratch
You make, they burst and
Pelt you with old bullets.

Can I help you? Let me
Tell the truth that is
Kept inside your sick heart
Tear it apart.
Impossible…

Your tangled state of mind
Slammed the door shut
Into both our faces.
– It hurt me more.

Deceit is defeat –
So I’ll strive to open your eyes,
Force them open with my claws.
Truth
Always
Hurts.